


Gonna Go Down in Flames

by amycarey



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-20 11:49:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8247707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amycarey/pseuds/amycarey
Summary: Paid Research Opportunity: Romantic Couples Study. You and your partner are eligible to participate if you: are in a committed, monogamous romantic relationship; have been dating for at least six months; are currently living together; are both over the age of eighteen.Emma needs cash. Regina wants to irritate her mother. It’s a pity they got off on the wrong foot.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this](http://lesbianrey.tumblr.com/post/139998890690/looks-like-the-perfect-opportunity-for-the-fake) tumblr post and ‘You’ve Got Mail’.   
> This is for the people who have been my rock over the past months, the people who offered to kill for me, and made me laugh, and made me think, and helped me so much, and I love all of you grumpy assholes and rays of sunshine.

Emma doesn’t even go to University of Storybrooke. Honestly, she’s just passing through (or so she said three months ago, but then the owner of the university bookstore gave her a job and a jock was desperately trying to sublet her second bedroom when her girlfriend ditched her for a guy, so, well, maybe she’s sticking around a bit longer). But money’s tight and opportunities to make it thin on the ground and she’s scouring the student noticeboard for job listings when she sees it. 

 

_ Paid Research Opportunity _ :  _ Romantic Couples Study. _

 

She doesn’t look next to her when she makes the comment. “Easy money.”

 

The woman standing beside her scoffs. “You don’t look the type for a committed, monogamous, romantic relationship,” she says. 

 

“Hey that’s--” Essentially accurate, she thinks privately, before turning to look at the very rude individual beside her. The very rude,  _ very pretty _ individual currently eyeing her with some disdain. “I could commit the hell out of a relationship,” she says. “You, on the other hand, would have to remove the stick out of your ass before you gave it a go.”

 

“There’s the charm that will woo you a lovely young man,” the woman says, upper lip curling.

 

“Heteronormative nonsense,” Emma says because, well, her boss is a gender studies doctoral student and she’s pretty passionate. She pulls down the flyer, storming off to work.

 

“You know,” her boss says, picking up the flyer from the counter. “It’s totally unethical but I really hate the dude running this study and my best friend’s been trying to piss off her mother. You could always kill two birds with one stone.”

 

*

 

Marian’s best friend is a post-grad as well--though, in studying Law, she’s in a more useful field than gender studies--and she messages Emma that afternoon. Emma is then treated to a quiz, questions ranging from favourite colour ( _ yellow _ ) and comfort food ( _ grilled cheese or those pastries shaped like a pawprint _ ), through to aspirations for the future.

 

Emma had replied  _ what are you my parole officer _ and Regina Mills had sent her a treatise about the importance of setting SMART goals and  _ no long-term girlfriend of mine will be ambitionless _ until Emma had lied and said she wanted to be a police officer, which had inspired another rant about police corruption.

 

Emma’s so busy reading one of the many linked articles from Regina Mills’ tirade on her phone that she doesn’t notice the woman in front of her until it’s too late. “Oh, for--” a large book falls, as does a very full, very large coffee. “Watch where you’re going.”

 

“I’m so sorry!” Emma says, bending to pick up the book, now stained with coffee. She hands it to the woman and realises. “Hey, it’s you.”

 

“And of course it’s you,” the woman replies, and she’s still very pretty, even if she is also the most tense person in the universe. “Idiot.” 

 

“Chill, maybe?” Emma suggests. “I didn’t, like, maliciously steer myself into you.”

 

But the woman snatches her book from Emma and storms off, heels clicking against asphalt.

 

That night, Regina Mills messages her.  _ Thoughts on children?  _ Emma has spent a long time trying not to think about babies, trying not to think about that day three years ago because it claws at her heart, and so she does not answer seriously, instead writing  _ Buy me a ring first, girl. _

 

Regina doesn’t respond for a long time and when she does it is with a terse,  _ I would appreciate not being called a diminutive like ‘girl’ by someone whose only goal in life appears to be to eat as much macaroni and cheese in one sitting as possible.  _ And, yeah, Emma knew she’d regret telling that story.

 

Despite not asking any questions of Regina Mills whatsoever (except  _ what are you wearing _ , with a winky face, which received no response), Emma feels like she knows Regina Mills pretty well, all told.

 

*

 

The day before they’re due to attend the study, Regina Mills finally has time to meet Emma at the coffee shop on campus. Emma jokes about whether Regina will be reading a copy of ‘Pride and Prejudice’ and holding a red rose.

 

_ I’ll not be participating in romantic comedy cliches _ , comes the crisp reply. 

 

_ Not even ‘You’ve Got Mail’? Missing out on the chance for a classic trope there _ , Emma writes. 

 

And then the Tom Hanks-iest of Tom Hanks moments happens where Emma, running late, looks in the window of the coffee shop and sees someone embarrassingly familiar at the designated table, with a copy of Pride and Prejudice perched at the edge.

 

Judgy Relationship And Also Rude About Accidental Bumping Into Situations Girl. 

 

But. Emma will not be Tom Hanks. She will not ditch some girl in a coffee shop. She walks in. 

 

Regina Mills looks up expectantly, a half-smile playing on her lips. And then she sees Emma. The smile disappears and the book and the red rose on the table gets shoved hastily into a handbag. “No,” she says. “No, no, no.”

 

“You did the Meg Ryan thing,” Emma says, settling into the chair in front of her. “That’s so cute.”

 

Regina Mills scowls. “This isn’t happening.” She pulls out her phone and begins furiously texting someone, who Emma presumes is Marian. Emma takes the opportunity to order a coffee. A large one. Lots of sugar. 

 

When she settles down in front of Regina Mills again, she has her phone out on the table. “Okay,” she says. “Marian says I have to give you a chance. You have two minutes.” She presses the timer on her phone.

 

“I’m excellent in bed,” Emma says.

 

“One minute and fifty seconds,” Regina says. 

 

“Okay,” Emma says. “Sorry. So, you’re trying to piss off your mom, right? She homophobic? Bit of a snob?” It’s a fair guess, given Regina’s designer labels and don’t-touch-me-peasants air and, yes, Regina nods. “I’m the  _ perfect _ terrible girlfriend,” Emma says. 

 

“Expand on this,” Regina says. As she does so, she leans forward and Emma catches a glimpse of cleavage, some sort of pendant on a chain dangling between her breasts, and momentarily loses track of everything that is happening in her brain. 

 

“Well,” she says and manages to drag her gaze up to Regina’s face. She does not look unamused. “I’m messy and scruffy and I don’t know who my parents are but they’re probably not high society given they abandoned me on a highway. I got my GED in juvie and I don’t go to college, possibly never will. Your mother will  _ hate _ me.”

 

“And why should I then participate in this research project?”

 

“I need the cash,” Emma says. 

 

“Drugs?” Regina asks. 

 

“Rude,” Emma says. “Also, no, but you’re welcome to tell your mom that if you think it’ll help.” 

 

She’s surprised, but not a little pleased, when Regina sighs. “My mother’s having a Halloween function next weekend. You will attend with me, and any events I should require you to attend for the duration of the semester.” 

 

Emma tries--and probably fails--to act like she has any semblance of cool in regards to this. “Alright, great!” she says. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow.”

 

“I will meet you in the foyer of the psychology building,” Regina says and, standing, she holds out a hand. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

 

“See you tomorrow, pookie!” Emma calls out as she leaves. Regina pulls the finger at her without even looking around and Emma laughs, delighted.

 

*

 

She’s running late again, straight off a shift at the bookstore, and runs into the psychology building, immediately dropping her phone, which skitters across the ground. Regina is sitting in the foyer, legs crossed, lips pursed. “Hi,” Emma says. “Sorry! Work.” She flops into the seat beside Regina who, she is pretty certain, has a metal rod inserted in her spine. 

 

Couple things, couple things. Emma rests her head on Regina’s shoulder and places a hand on her thigh. “Hope you’re not mad, babe,” she says.

 

Regina tenses but says sugar-sweet, “of course not, dear.” And she covers Emma’s hand with her own.

 

“Your hands are like ice,” Emma complains and Regina smirks. 

 

They’re approached by a guy wearing a leather jacket and far too much eyeliner. “Hey,” he says. “Are you here for the relationships study?” 

 

Emma smiles widely. “Young couple in a six month long, monogamous romantic relationship? That couldn’t be more us!” 

 

*

 

Later, Emma reflects on her day and wonders whether it could have actually been more uncomfortable.

 

Firstly, the guy running the study--Killian Jones--is, as Marian said, a total douchebag. He flirts openly with Emma and immediately insinuates that if they ever want to give non-monogamy a go he’d be up for it.

 

Secondly, Regina comes over all possessive and grips Emma’s hand so tightly she thinks she might have bruised it.

 

Thirdly, the questionnaire, as well as asking about boring relationship stuff, is also ridiculously sexual. Emma takes a good stab at the answers. Regina Mills is ridiculously uptight and girls like her, in Emma’s experience, are totally repressed or super kinky. She probably shouldn’t be so interested in finding out which category Regina falls into. She keeps trying to sneak glances over at Regina’s questionnaire but Regina just glares at her and covers it with her arm.

 

Fourthly and finally, Regina keeps doing this really distracting thing where she stretches and her cropped shirt lifts away from her skirt and bares a thin line of skin at her midriff and Emma’s eyes keep getting drawn to it. 

 

They hand in the questionnaires and Regina takes Emma’s hand again, lifting it and pressing a kiss to her knuckles and, damn it, why is Emma getting fluttery about this?

 

“Well, we’ll see you next week for the experiment portion,” Killian says. “Unless… My roommate’s away for the weekend and I’ve got a decent bottle of rum…” He waggles his eyebrows.

 

“Hard pass,” Emma says. “Come on, love muffin, let’s get you back to work.” 

 

“If you call me that again I will turn your skin into a handbag,” Regina murmurs, though she smiles blandly the whole time. 

 

*

 

_ I will pick you up at 6.00 on Saturday _ , comes the terse text message the next day. It is followed by another message.  _ Not 6.15, not 6.05, not 6.03. 6. Be ready.  _

 

Emma rolls her eyes.  _ O ye of little faith. _

 

_ O me of much prior experience.  _

 

Mulan’s in the living room, watching women’s basketball, when Emma stumbles out of her room, pulling her shirt on. “What costume would you wear to a snooty Halloween party?” she asks. Last time Emma went to a Halloween party she wore cat ears and a lot of black leather but the leather chaffed and if she’s going to be miserable and hated on, she’d at least like to be comfortable.

 

Mulan shrugs. “You can borrow my go-to,” she says. And so it is that at precisely 5.59, Emma is standing on the curb, coat covering her costume, and feeling pretty good about herself all told. 

 

Regina pulls up in a Mercedes and Emma whistles. “We could always take my car,” she says, gesturing at her beloved yellow bug. “It’s a guaranteed Mother repeller.”

 

“I have no desire to die on the road tonight,” Regina says. “Get in and stop wasting my time.”

 

Emma gets into the car and looks across at Regina. She’s dressed entirely in black, so Emma’s presuming she’s dressing as a witch. She’d ask about the hat but Regina looks so tense, vein in her forehead pulsing. 

 

“So, what do I need to know?” Emma asks, when Regina pulls out into traffic.

 

“My mother will be cold, possibly vicious,” she says. “She’ll likely reserve her ire for me, however. It’s entirely possible my sister will try and seduce you.” 

 

“Nice,” Emma says, and then winces at Regina’s expression.

 

“Kindly remember that you are my fake girlfriend,” Regina says. “And I’d appreciate it if I wasn’t forced to break up with you for screwing my sister because that leaves me much more open to the attack of the eligible bachelors.”

 

“Sorry,” Emma says. 

 

“Just be your usual obnoxious self,” Regina says. “That shouldn’t be too hard to manage.”

 

*

 

The party is a disaster.

 

Emma figures this out early on when she enters the mansion-like house that is Regina’s family home and realises no one else is in costume.

 

“You said this was a Halloween party!” she hisses, clinging to her coat. “Who has a costume-free Halloween party?”

 

“My mother,” Regina says. “Darling, no one dresses up when they’re out of college. Now, give the nice butler your coat.”

 

Sighing, Emma takes her coat off and at least she gets to treasure the brief moment where Regina Mills stares at Emma’s breasts in their Wonder Woman bustier before her gaze snaps back to her face. “This will certainly infuriate my mother,” she says, and she might just be smiling. 

 

As they walk through the foyer, Regina snakes them two glasses of champagne. “Ah, and there’s the woman herself,” she says, pointing towards an older woman, dressed in a black cocktail dress, who has definitely had some work done. “Mother!”

 

“Regina, dear, you’re late,” her mother says, and her voice is so soft and sweet, for a moment Emma thinks that Regina has been wildly exaggerating. And then she looks into the woman’s cold eyes and shivers. “And you brought a friend…”

 

“This is my  _ girl _ friend, Mother,” Regina says loudly. “Emma Swan, meet Cora Mills.”

 

“Lovely to meet you, Mrs Mills,” Emma says. 

 

“I prefer Ms,” Cora says, eyeing Emma like she’s garbage. “Dear, that lovely Locksley boy is around somewhere. Recently divorced, you know.”

 

“Gay, Mother,” Regina snaps. “And with my loving girlfriend of six months.” And she clutches Emma’s arm tighter.

 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Cora says. “I forbid you from dating Supergirl here.”

 

“Actually, it’s Wonder Woman,” Emma says but she is ignored. Regina’s fingers are digging into her arm and people are staring and Emma regrets every life decision she made up until this point.

 

She downs her champagne and grabs another from a circling waiter.

 

*

 

An hour later, she’s been introduced to Regina’s sister, Zelena (“Going to use that lasso on me?” she’d asked, smirking. “I might quite like being tied up.”), has drank four more glasses of champagne, and knocked over a fondue pot. 

 

Regina has been dragged away to meet the ‘lovely Locksley boy’ and Cora makes it quite clear Emma is not welcome at this rendezvous. 

 

Terrified Zelena might find her again without Regina to protect her, she sneaks out and upstairs, exploring until she finds a quiet room. It becomes quickly apparently that this is Regina’s childhood bedroom, based on the many pictures of Regina on horses and Emma is a little bit delighted to discover Regina was a horse girl. “What a dork,” she mumbles and stumbles a little.

 

The door opens, slamming shut, and Regina heaves out a sigh of relief. “Oh,” she says. “It’s you.” This is said without its usual bite. 

 

“Heeeey,” Emma says, and does the finger guns at Regina. 

 

“Finally got away from Locksley’s groping,” she says, flopping down onto the bed beside Emma. “I’m going to murder my mother.”

 

“Can I help?” Emma asks, and Regina laughs. 

 

“I won’t have you going to prison on my count,” she says. “I don’t loathe you that much.”

 

Emma just shrugs. “I managed juvie fine and television informs me that you get pretty great lesbian sex in prison.”

 

Regina laughs and leans her head against Emma’s shoulder, friendly and comforting. Footsteps sound in the hall. “Regina?” It’s her mother’s voice. “Stop hiding away like a child.”

 

“Want to really piss off my mother?” Regina asks, and Emma barely has time to nod before Regina has straddled her and is kissing her.

 

And, God, it’s kind of ridiculous, but Regina’s hands are in her hair, tugging her closer and Emma finds her own hands gripping Regina’s thighs, rucking the black dress up, and Regina’s lips press against Emma’s neck and Emma lets out a breathy sigh. 

 

“Oh good lord.”

 

And that is how Emma and Regina are asked to leave Cora Mills’ Halloween function in disgrace.

 

The drive back to Emma’s apartment is silent and the awkwardness increases as Emma sobers up. “So,” Emma says. “That was...interesting.”

 

“I’ll see you at the second part of the experiment,” Regina says, staring straight ahead, refusing to engage. 

 

And, well, fine. It’s not like Emma’s got a crush or anything.

 

*

 

Regina does not reply to any of her messages over the following days and so Emma’s pissed off when she gets to their next appointment with Killian ‘Sleazy’ Jones. She bumps into Regina at the door to the Psychology building. “I guess it’s cute that we’re arriving together,” she says.

 

Regina just shrugs. 

 

“So, sweetie pie,” Emma says, “Cuddle bunny, what do you think this practical experiment will be?”

 

What it is is an obstacle course. “One of you will be blindfolded,” Killian says. 

 

“Kinky,” Emma mutters and she sees Regina smile in spite of herself. 

 

Killian continues. “The other will guide the blindfolded person through the obstacles, only giving verbal instructions.”

 

“Well,” Emma says. “I’m sure as shit not being blindfolded.”

 

She ends up blindfolded. 

 

Weirdly, though, it’s not so bad. Perhaps because Emma can’t see her, Regina is calm and patient and very clear with her instructions. Emma barely stumbles, adrenaline thumping through her veins, Regina’s words in her ears. “Record time,” Killian says when Emma takes off the blindfold, and she doesn’t really think about it, just throws her arms around Regina and hugs her.

 

After a moment of panicked stiffness, Regina returns the hug, melting into the embrace in a way that would be romantic if Emma didn’t know this was a farce. 

 

“You can collect your cash at the front desk,” Killian says. “Are you sure I can’t convince you to give non-monogamy a go?” 

 

Regina slaps him. Emma notes, impressed, that she’s surprisingly strong for such a small woman.

 

*

 

“So,” Emma says, holding the cash. “Stupid psychology experiment or stupidest psychology experiment?”

 

“Stupidest, definitely,” Regina says. She could leave, but she’s lingering, looks like she’s on the verge of saying something.

 

“How do we want to split this?” Emma asks, gesturing with the cash.

 

“You keep it,” Regina says. “I got what I needed.”

 

“Did you?” They’re so close; Emma can see the individual strands of Regina’s eyelashes, the minor imperfections of her skin, a scar, a mole, and has to actively resist reaching out to stroke her cheek.

 

Regina hesitates for just a moment. “Almost,” she says. “Keep the money, Emma.” And she turns and walks away. 

 

Emma stands, watching her leave, money clenched in her fist. She feels hollow. And then she runs, not away, but towards her. “Hey, Regina!” she says, and Regina turns. “Seems only right that I should use some of this to take you out for a nice meal.”

  
Regina heaves a sigh, but then she’s smiling like sunshine and her eyes are so bright. “If you insist.” 


End file.
